Dangerous To Go Alone
by AMKelley
Summary: Stan is staring up at Vic with wide puppy dog eyes that swell with tears, but Vic has to look away out of guilt. Despite the fact that Vic hung out with Henry, he didn't agree with most of the things he did. He didn't like tormenting Stan and his friends and seeing him in pain and crying now made him feel funny.


Vic could hear the sound of someone sniffling coming from the clearing by the river as he trudged through the woods. It made him pause briefly. Victor concentrated on the noise, turning his head in the same direction it came from, and furrowed his eyebrows. It sounded like someone was crying which coaxed Vic to follow it cautiously through the brush. He reached the edge of the woods to find a small boy hunched over on the ground by the river and approached him.

The closer he got the more he recognized the boy. It was one of Bill Denbrough's friends, the one with the curly hair and the funny cap that Patrick had snatched off his head on many occasions. Uris was his name, Victor recalled. Stanley Uris, the son of the local Rabbi. He was currently sulking softly and clutching at his knobby knee, but Vic couldn't tell much else from this distance. Victor made it all the way to Stan before he made his presence known.

"You're that Uris kid aren't you?" Vic asked, causing Stan to whip his head back towards the blonde.

Stan wiped clumsily at his face, sniffling some more, as he tried to hide the fact he'd been crying. But it was too late. Vic caught him off guard and Stan's eyelids were red and puffy from irritation anyway. There was no hiding it from the older boy now.

"Why are you crying?" Vic went on to inquire, trying to look around Stan to see what the fuss had been over.

"I slipped on a rock and scraped my knee," Stan answered in a meek tone, voice trembling from nerves and distress.

Vic walked around to Stan's side and took a gander at the wound when Stan's timidly pulled his hand away and revealed it to him. It wasn't just a scrape. In comparison to the rest of Stand knee, the wound was pretty sizeable. It looked all fleshy and raw and the blood that dripped from it ran down the length of Stan's leg. Victor winced slightly in both horror and amazement, wondering how slipping on a mossy rock could cause such a wound.

"Holy shit," Vic commented with a giddy laugh. "That's gnarly!"

"It really hurts," Stan said, whimpering like a wounded animal as he gazed up at Vic with doe eyes.

"Well, yeah. You have a gash the size of Manhattan on your knee," Vic exclaimed, gesturing towards it.

They both fall silent and look at each other for the longest moment, as if waiting for the other to break the uncomfortable silence that's overcome them. Stan is staring up at Vic with wide puppy dog eyes that swell with tears, but Vic has to look away out of guilt. Despite the fact that Vic hung out with Henry, he didn't agree with most of the things he did. He didn't like tormenting Stan and his friends and seeing him in pain and crying now made him feel funny.

He looked down at the droplets of blood running down Stan's shin, noticing the way it started to dry slightly and heaved out a sigh. He knelt down beside Stan and pulled a bandana out of his back pocket. He dipped it into the water, wetting it on the corner, and reached out for Stan's scraped knee.

"Here, let me help you out."

"Wait a minute!" Stan gushed.

"What?"

"Do you think that's sanitary?"

"It's water. You'll be fine," Vic assured, going in again to start lightly dabbing the blood away. "You don't want dirt to start sticking to it, do you?"

"No…" Stan said slowly, cautiously letting Vic clean his skinned knee.

He supposed it was the lesser of two evils and at least it wasn't grey water. He'd much rather take his chances if that were the case, thank you very much. Despite the fact that Victor was a kid that hung out with Henry Bowers and his goons, he was surprisingly very gentle in the way he cared for Stan's wound. Then again, Vic had never really attacked him personally, unlike Patrick or Henry. Vic rarely ever participated. He was more of a bystander watching it all unfold.

While Victor was cleaning him up, Stan would occasionally look at the blonde boy from under his curls with a curious gaze. Vic's face was calm and stoic, clearly concentrating on the task at hand, but he did look up at one point to catch Stan staring at him. Stan's eyes were big and brown like a doe's before he glanced away from Vic's amused gaze. Vic smirked briefly. Stan hissed under his breath, going to clutch his leg around the affected area. Victor stilled his hand, all levity leaving his features as he stared at Stan imploringly.

"Are you okay?" Vic asked.

"It stings," Stan pointed out in that meek tenor of his.

"No shit, Sherlock," Vic sighed, rolling his eyes. He gestured at Stan's knee and added, "I mean _hello_. What the hell are you doing out here in the Barrens anyway? It's dangerous to be out here by yourself."

"I wasn't doing anything."

"Bullshit. You and that Eddie kid are scared of your own shadows," Vic remarked. "You wouldn't be out here if it wasn't important or something."

"Okay, but you gotta promise me you won't laugh or tell Henry," Stan replied, crumbling.

"Consider it done," Vic swore, looking up at Stan through his blonde bangs.

"I was looking for a bird."

"A _bird_ ," Vic echoed, squinting at Stan.

"It's mating season right now and the Barrens is sorta like a meeting ground for all the species indigenous to Maine," Stan explained, trying to suppress a wince as Vic dabbed lightly around his knee.

"Now, when you say bird you mean like an _actual_ bird?" Vic reiterated as he attempted to understand just what Stan was saying. "Like with feathers and a beak?"

"I like bird watching," Stan admitted with a shrug, blushing when Vic gave him an easy smile. "It's, you know, _peaceful_."

He looked as if he wanted to laugh at Stan but he made a promise and besides, he was more tickled than anything else. It was kind of endearing the way Stan's face had lit up briefly as he talked. Vic sort of wished he was passionate about something like Stan was of Ornithology. Victor didn't have any aspirations or hobbies really, aside from music. He wasn't talented enough to play an instrument but he dabbled in writing. He'd never admit it, though.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" Stan ventured after a moment.

"Sure," Vic replied, acknowledging Stan.

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

"When was I ever mean to you in the first place?" Vic inquired.

"You know what I mean," Stan sighed, sparing a glance down to see nearly all the blood was wiped away.

"I'm not a bad person," Vic stated, stopping briefly so he could look Stan in the eyes. He was frowning slightly as he was met with that timid gaze. "I just don't like being alone, you know? I mean, they're my friends. You sorta stick together."

" _You're_ friends hurt _my_ friends," Stan said, raising his voice a little much to Vic's surprise.

"I know. I'm not saying it's an excuse or anything," Vic gushed, getting defensive despite everything. "I'm just saying…"

"Then maybe being alone is better sometimes," Stan said, mumbling mostly to himself.

By now, Stan's scraped knee has been cleaned to the best of Vic's abilities. The affected area is raw looking, blood rushing to the surface to make it look all pink and irritated. A band-aid wouldn't be enough to cover it up, and Vic didn't have any on him anyway, so he did the next best thing. Vic folded up the bandana and grabbed Stan's skinny leg by the calf and outstretched it. Stan winced as the skin on his bony knee shifted.

Vic took his bandana and wrapped it around Stan's knee carefully, tying a knot behind the bend of his leg like a tourniquet. The material rubbed against the exposed flesh uncomfortably but at least it was protected now. Vic also noticed that Stan hadn't complained about germs being on the bandana either, which was a plus. It wasn't the best, but considering they didn't have much to work with, Vic thought he did a pretty good job.

"There. All better," Vic announced, tapping Stan on the side of his leg.

"Thanks," Stan said.

There was a shift in tone, making the silence between them awkward as they sat beside the river. It could be the question Stan had asked or the lame answer Vic had given him, but they'd never know for sure. It was clear that Stan was waiting for Vic to say something. After all, Vic had just been passing through the woods. Stan had a reason for being here, but Vic could leave now since his job was done. And yet he didn't move from where he knelt on the ground.

"Hey listen," Vic said when he realized Stan wasn't going to say anything. "I know I'm like one of the last people you'd ever want to talk to or whatever, but if you wanted someone to, I don't know, _look after_ you out here… I wouldn't mind keeping an eye on you."

"Like a chaperone?" Stan inquired, staring up at Vic with starry eyes.

"Like a _friend_ ," Vic corrected, cheeks hot and pink. He quickly went on to add, "If not, then I totally understand."

"Well, I wouldn't _mind_ the company," Stan admitted with a meek smile, eyes flashing between Vic's face and the ground nervously. "Then again…"

"What?" Vic asked quickly, snapping his full attention to the smaller boy.

It was almost comical how wide Vic's eyes went as he waited with bated breath. Almost like he _cared_.

"I can't have you scaring the birds away," Stan teased, smirking a little when Vic rolled his eyes in an exaggerated manner.

"Punk," Vic remarked, though he couldn't help but smirk at Stan's tenacity. It was good to see Stan warming up to him a little and it made him feel good to be nice for once. "I mean it, though. It's dangerous to be out here by yourself. Too many kids go missing."

It was a serious topic for Vic to bring up but it didn't make it any less true. Henry was the type to revel in children disappearing, but Vic sounded genuinely concerned. Mostly about Stan for some odd reason. Maybe it was the guilt of being friends with Henry. Either way, it touched Stan in a way he couldn't begin to explain. He can't remember the last time someone other than Bill showed him any shred of concern for him. His father certainly never did.

Stan felt appreciated by the gesture more than anything, but he wasn't going to admit it just yet. He had to keep his guard up just in case. Vic could be trying to pull some big elaborate prank on him that ultimately lead him back to Henry, despite how ridiculous that sounded even to Stan. It was paranoid, sure, but old habits die hard. Instead, he played it cool to the best of his abilities and hoped Victor didn't notice just how excited he was at the prospect of hanging out with an older boy.

"Take me home first and I'll think about it," Stan bargained, keeping Vic on his toes.

"Alright, but I'm not carrying you," Vic stated firmly, though there was a hint of a smile in his voice.

Stan beamed at Vic despite everything, letting one of those smiles you can't possibly suppress slip just a little. The kind of smile you get when talking to your crush and it's obvious to Stan that, even though he should distance himself from Vic, he's letting his guard down. And when Vic lent a hand down to him and pulled him out of the dirt, he couldn't help but fall in love. If Henry saw Vic helping Stan Uris, surely he'd get his ass kicked and if Richie or the other guys saw Stan _bonding_ with one of Henry's cronies he'd never live it down. They'd think he'd gone mental.

Yet here they were walking through the woods together as allies. Well, Victor walked and Stan more or less _limped_ on account of his skinned knee. His whole leg felt weak to the point where he almost fell down a few times, but Vic was there to catch him. They trudged through the woods mostly in silence, the only sound being the snapping of twigs and the crunch of leaves beneath their feet. Vic looked over at Stan every so often, not because Stan had a bum leg but because Vic was curious about something.

"What?" Stan questioned with a blush when he caught Vic stealing glances over at him.

"I was just wondering how you get your hair so curly," Vic answered truthfully, ruffling Stan's curls playfully.

His hair was soft, but it was easy to get your hand tangled if you weren't careful. Vic's never seen hair quite so curly before and that's saying a lot considering the fashion.

"Nothing," Stan said with a small smile. The heat rushed back to his cheeks. "It's hereditary."

"Really? It looks really nice," Vic complemented, grinning at Stan when he noticed the faint blush high on the boy's cheekbones. "It suits you."

"Yeah, right. It's a mess," Stan dismissed with a nervous laugh. "Can't do anything with it and it's a pain to comb out sometimes."

"Messy or not, I think it's cute either way," Vic said ardently, mouth quirking to one side in a flirty half smile.

"T-Thank you," Stan stuttered in his soft spoken tenor. He felt embarrassed by the compliments, to be quite frank, but he enjoyed the positive attention.

"Not that my opinion matters," Vic added after a beat, feeling the need to explain himself. "Just thought I should stick it out there. I was just curious because my hair's the same way, though not as... _wild_ for lack of a better word."

"How do you get it so straight?" Stan asked.

"Flat iron."

"What's that?"

"It's kinda like an iron for clothes, but it looks like tongs for a barbeque grill," Vic explained, getting a comical look from Stan that was equal parts bewildered and amused. "When the iron is hot enough you clamp it on your hair and straightens it with the heat. Bye bye curls."

"And you use it everyday?" Stan inquired, the pain in his knee all but forgotten.

"Uh-huh."

"Do you think something like that would work on _my_ hair?" Stan said, swaying into Vic as they walked.

Vic glanced over at Stan, amused that the Jewish boy was so keen on learning more about Vic's hair sorcery. The look on Stan's face seemed like he just couldn't believe there was such a thing as a flat iron to straighten unruly hair. He also couldn't see Vic with anything other than straight, perfect hair either.

"I'll tell you what. If you let me birdwatch with you, I'll teach you a thing or two about hair," Vic propositioned, nudging Stan with his elbow in an endearing way. "That way we both learn something new."

"Does that include you straightening my hair?" Stan asked timidly, gazing at Vic bashfully.

"After a few lessons you'll be straightening your own hair in no time," Vic enthused, going so far as to wrap his arm around Stan's shoulders to reel him in closer.

"And you'll know the differences between a little auk and a razorbill," Stan added with a giddy laugh.

"I'll just pretend like I know what you're talking about and consider that as an agreement," Vic replied, giving Stan a noogie that made his hair even more messy. "Now come on. Let's get you home."

And just like that, they set off through the Barrens. Vic kept a protective arm slung around Stan's shoulders, holding the skinny boy close as they idly chatted away. Stan could feel himself slowly give in, going so far as to wrap his own arm around Vic's waist. It was strange to think someone like Vic could end up bonding with someone like Stan Uris, then again that had been the same closed minded mentality as Henry. Besides, Stan was starting to warm up to Vic and, in time, who knows where this could go?

They may not be friends yet, but they're not enemies. Not anymore. And that was a start as far as Vic was concerned.


End file.
